Andile Masuku

Last week, Nigerian travel content creator Alma Asinobi attempted to break the Guinness World Record for the fastest journey across the world's seven continents. The current record of 64 hours is held by Johnny Cruz Buckingham of the US, set in February 2025.

Asinobi's journey began on March 20th from Antarctica, taking her through Chile, the Dominican Republic, Spain, Egypt, and Dubai. Her record-breaking ambitions were ultimately dashed by the obstacles that come with travelling while Nigerian - including being denied boarding a flight to Perth, which delayed her arrival in Sydney. Total travel time: 71 hours and 35 minutes.

Although she failed to break Buckingham's record, Asinobi's journey has ignited fresh conversations about passport inequality and travel restrictions faced by citizens of developing nations.

It's a reality even Africa's wealthiest person, Aliko Dangote, has acknowledged. During a 2023 Africa CEO Forum conversation with CNN's Larry Madowo, Dangote revealed that despite his high-net-worth individual (HNWI) status, his Nigerian passport subjects him to dozens of visa applications annually - just to move around the continent, let alone the rest of the world. He pointed out that, HNWI privileges notwithstanding, he enjoys considerably less freedom of movement than an everyday Western passport holder.

Meet Bankole Oluwafemi

I first encountered Bankole ‘Lord Banks’ Oluwafemi’s work back in 2013 when TechCabal was still finding its feet as one of the first dedicated African tech publications. Long before the current wave of ‘Africa rising’ tech narratives became fashionable, he was documenting Nigeria's nascent startup ecosystem from cramped co-working spaces in Lagos, often navigating through the city's notorious traffic to chase stories with nothing but a notepad, curiosity and an unwavering belief that African tech deserved serious coverage.

What struck me most during our recent chat was Oluwafemi's reflection on how he built TechCabal through what he calls "just figuring it out" - an approach that embodied the very ethos of the startups he was covering. "We were just winging it, man," he told me with that characteristic rueful laugh that punctuates his serious insights. "There was no blueprint for building a tech publication in Nigeria at that time."

Though his LinkedIn bio modestly describes him as a "full-stack creative" who "helped create TechCabal and Zikoko," the reality is more consequential. Oluwafemi didn't just help create these platforms - he founded them and pioneered a new form of tech journalism in Africa that set the stage for much of the ecosystem coverage we now take for granted.

Now working on Nigerianisms (2026), a book exploring Nigerian culture through Afrobeats and Nollywood, Oluwafemi brings us his thoughts on something deeply personal: the concept of a "sovereignty stack" and what it means to navigate the world with a Nigerian passport.

Having spent years as a self-described "homeless" digital nomad between 2019 and 2023, Lord Banks constantly sought ways to "opt out" of constraining systems. Now based in Manchester, UK, which he currently calls home, he has thought deeply about global mobility and digital access.

In Oluwafemi's words:

Edge of the matrix

There's a scene in The Matrix where Morpheus tells Neo that the world he thinks he knows is an illusion, a construct designed to keep him in place. That moment resonates with me because, for many people, the world really does work that way - especially if you were born with the "wrong" passport.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to see the world. Growing up in Nigeria, my first window into the wider world wasn't a passport, a plane ticket, or even a map. It was books. A lot of Enid Blyton. And then television - cartoons on NTA 2 Channel 5.

But getting to watch TV wasn't a given. First, there had to be power, which was never guaranteed. Then, the TV station had to be transmitting.

If both conditions aligned, I'd get my two-hour ticket out of Lagos, stepping through the CRT screen into the worlds of Sesame Street, Magic School Bus, and Enid Blyton's The Famous Five. By the time I finally set foot in the US, my first ever trip abroad, at the ripe old age of 27, it felt like I had already been there.

Yet, there was a fundamental difference between me and the kids whose lives I had lived vicariously through those screens: for them, the world was open. For me, a Nigerian passport holder, it was not, because sometime in the 1980s, the Nigerian passport's travel access began to decline.

In The Matrix, some people could defy physics and walk vertically up walls. In real life, international borders are semi-permeable barriers that some people can walk through, and others cannot, based on specific legal attributes.